The word to describe me right now is: restless.

I just can't get my groove on, dig it?

Boys. That's part of my dilemma. There are boys in my life right now that have expressed "like." Problem being: I am not liking them back. I mean, they are nice. Maybe they are fun. But there's no�chemistry. I hate that. Meanwhile, I am dating them anyway because I hear that voice in the back of my head, my mother's voice, telling me to go. Telling me to give each one a shot. Telling me I am too picky. Telling me that what I want is not of this earth.

Actually, everyone tells me that. Maybe I am too picky? I really don't think I am. I just don't feel like going along with someone that's not a "fit." I don't feel like making it work. In the beginning, it's supposed to be exciting, right? You're supposed to get that feeling in your tummy and want to kiss all of the time and hold hands and talk into the wee hours of the morning.

I don't have that feeling right now. I had that feeling. Once. And I fucked that up. So here I am. Dating for sport.

The problem with this is that I think I am ready for that feeling. For the first time in my life, I am thinking that I could possibly maybe perhaps in the near future make some type of�*gulp*�commitment.

Now, let's not all get fired up here and think that I may be moving toward some type of maturity here because that is NOT what's going on. I'm just talking about seeing someone on a regular basis. Not until death do us part.

My other problem: I have a serious crush on a 1) Yet another musician, but 2) He barely knows I share his air. This is a problem. Because I love him. Maybe I don't love him. Maybe I just talked myself into loving him? I mean, how well do I know him? Not that well. Okay, so maybe it's not love. It's a severe crush. But it's all consuming! I can't focus! I can't look at another man. Okay, maybe I can look at another man. Maybe I am still looking at a lot of men. But I am *reallyreallyreally* attracted to him!

Perhaps, friends, I am just in love with the idea of being in love.

Wait a second! This is all strangely familiar. Ahhh, it's that time of year again. It came a little earlier this year. I have Spring Fever.

I feel better already!

*~*

But what about my other problems? I am restless in other areas. I am restless at work. I am neither happy nor unhappy. I think I may be bored. I find myself searching for something on a day to day basis. I think I no longer dig my profession.

Is this what I want out of life? A 9 to 6 job? Working for the man? Watching the seasons fade in and out from my chic windowed office? I mean, I am living a double life. Who the fuck am I? Where am I going? What am I contributing to society?

This wasn't the plan, you know? This was never the plan. This was something to do until I got the plan rolling. The problem is that I never finished writing the plan. So my side gig started playing center stage.

I'll admit it. I'm not really a planner. I'm a great implementer. I'm a thinker. I have concepts.

The thing that was great about college (after the sex, drugs and music) was that there was a plan. Always a plan. You have to take X core courses and X major courses and you worked within that framework. I need framework. I need guidance. I need a life counselor. I need someone to talk to! Someone who knows! Someone who can point me in the direction!

In general, I need guidance.

I'm just going to put it out there - I have no idea what I am doing with my life. Nor do I know what I want to do.

And this has been weighing heavily on my mind.

But I'm tired of just doing the expected. I'm tired of being the one to clean up messes. I'm tired of being the friend who has to get her drunk and passed out friend home when she is so bombed that she can't walk anymore and decides to just lay down on the floor in the lobby of a 4 star hotel. I am tired of trying to pick her up and get her home. I am tired of thanking doormen and security and cab drivers for helping me with my friends. I am tired of watching what I drink so that I am not so fucked up that I can't get my friend and then myself, home. I am tired of being the last person dropped off so I can make sure everyone is ok.

Maybe someone should drop me off and check to make sure I am okay? I am tired of being the one to get a call saying that so and so needs to get checked on and having to get keyed into an apartment to see if my friend is fucking alive.

I am tired of remembering these things. I am tired of seeing people I love in these positions. I don't want to ever have to teach another friend how to crawl 10 feet to her room because she's so fucked up she can't walk and I can't lift her. I don't want to see, in my head, my friend unconscious and me trying to wake him or her up. I don't want to relive seeing him anymore, blue, and me shaking him trying to revive him and have him wake up and barely see me but start to laugh at my concern and say to me, "Bet you thought I was dead."

I am tired of living with my demons. I am tired of caring. I am tired of beating myself up for people in my life who can't get their shit together.

I'm tired of piecing together everyone's black out nights. I'm tired of being the one who remembers. I'm tired of losing my voice because I drink and smoke and scream to be heard too much when we're out.

I am tired of sharing hotel rooms with 6 drunks who act like the Sex Pistols at 30.

I want someone to ask me if I need help getting home. I want to stop finding my friends by chance, passed out in taxi's in front my apartment building with no identification on them but vomit running down the front of them. I want them to stop calling me at 5am from a pay phone, after I've just left them, telling me they are on the street and have no idea where they are but thought they'd say "hi."

I want, when someone asks me, "what's new?" to have something tangible to offer.

I want to leave. I want out and I want to leave. I want to start over, completely over, somewhere. Clean slate.

I love the people in my life. Sometimes I love them too much. I love them too deeply. I love them so much that I forget that I love me and that living like this isn't really showing myself the love.

I want meaning. I want warmth. I want peace. I want help. I want security. I want a challenge. I want bliss. I want kisses in the middle of the night. I want something new. I want intrigue. I want adventure. I want to learn. I want to teach. I want to smile. I want to keep laughing. I want to make children smile. I want to heal the pain that other people feel. I want to look around me and feel fulfilled, satisfied.

I want to stand up to my friends like I do when I tell them like it is when they have a problem and say, "What about me?" I'm here too, you know? I'm not just here for the good time. I have stuff on my mind.

"Hey, guess what, it's not about you now." I want to say to them, I don't give a shit that you feel neglected because I've been moving on without you. I want to say, don't flatter yourself thinking that because I haven't been around and available at your beck and call that I am angry with you.

I want to talk about my mistakes. I want to tell you what I've done. I want to expose my demons and not feel ashamed or scared or embarrassed.

And when all of this happens, I want to sleep through the night again.

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